A Horse's Tail
by Panamint
Summary: We all know how much Little Joe loves Cochise. But how much does Cochise love Little Joe? If you've ever wondered, or even if you haven't, click here NOW.


A Horse's Tail

Written 5/7/04

Disclaimer: Don't I wish.

"Morning, Cooch. Did ya miss me?" he asks, just like he does every morning.

I whinny a little and bob my head up and down in reply. He laughs at my antics and says, "Well, I missed you, too."

Many people think that horses are just 'dumb animals'. Now that really gets my goat. Horses are not dumb; humans just don't give us a chance to show our skills... well, _most_ humans don't. There is one—the one they call Little Joe—who knows the extent of my knowledge and is willing to show off to the rest of his family. And that's why I like him so much.

As Little Joe gives me my breakfast, I exchange a small hello with Sport. He's the horse that the one they call Adam rides. Sport is a really nice guy, and we're good friends (truth be told, we were actually going out for a while, but it didn't work, so we agreed to split up. That didn't interfere with our great friendship, though).

Little Joe hears me talking—except to him its whinnies and snorts. He says, "Sayin' good morning to all your friends too, huh?"

I nuzzle his cheek. Little Joe is the only human I know who really understands us horses. Even the one they call Hoss can't seem to understand horses as well as Little Joe.

Next, Hoss comes in with his mount, whose name is Chubby. Why they named him that, I have no idea (no offense intended, but it may have something to do with the rider). Anyway, I say hello to Chubby as well. He was the first horse I met here on the Ponderosa. Chubby and I are almost like brother and sister, except we're not.

Little Joe brushes me as I eat. A couple of times, when Little Joe is away, one of his brothers do the brushing. Let me tell you: their brushing makes me miss my Little Joe all the more.

Just after Chubby, Little Joe's pa, Ben, comes in with Buck. Buck and I got off to a rocky start, but things are okay between us now. And I'm glad they did; it would have been a shame to miss out on something as wonderful as a friendship with Buck.

"Hey Pa, Hoss," Little Joe calls out. He's still brushing, and he never misses a beat. That's very rare in a human, believe me.

"Hey there, little brother," Hoss waves.

"Good morning, Joe," says Ben.

Maybe it's just me, but Ben seems to yell at poor Little Joe a lot. Half the time, Little Joe _is_ to blame, but sometimes he's completely innocent. I'll never understand humans. All I understand is that I'd like to give him a good kick once in a while, because I can see the hurt in Little Joe's eyes when Ben yells at him. But I know that that would make Little Joe even more upset, so I don't.

Little Joe gives me one final brush and then strokes my nose a little. I love it when he does that, and I especially love it if he gives me a sugar cube at the end. But since the sun has hardly even risen yet, I highly doubt he was able to get me one.

As Ben and Hoss turn around, Little Joe pulls something out of his pocket—a sugar cube! Okay, maybe I underestimated Little Joe's abilities. I lick the cube from his hand and nuzzle his cheek again. Boy do I love this kid.

Little Joe pats my neck and then leaves with his pa and brother. I hear Sport talking to me again: "You're one lucky horse, Cochise. Sugar cubes at seven in the morning? That's practically unheard of!"

I didn't know what 'seven in the morning' meant, but I did know that Sport is the most intelligent horse here, by human standards. Maybe it's because Adam is the smartest of the Cartwrights by human standards. By horse standards, on the other hand, Little Joe is on top.

"I hardly get sugar cubes at all, let alone before Adam goes in for breakfast," Sport continues. I reach into the hay and pull out a piece of cloth that ripped off of Little Joe's shirt one day. I open the cloth on the railing that separates me from Sport. Inside are three sugar cubes that I've saved from Little Joe's visits.

"I saved these for you and the other horses," I say.

"I don't know if I should..." Sport says hesitantly.

"Come on!" I urge. "What Adam doesn't know doesn't hurt him."

Sport laughs and takes one of the cubes. He thanks me and passes out the rest of the cubes to Buck and Chubby. They're grateful, too. And so am I. I have great friends and a comfortable home. And even if I didn't have all that, I'd just be glad to have my Little Joe.

* * *

The sun is about halfway through the sky now. Little Joe and I are riding towards a familiar place. It's so familiar, in fact, that Little Joe doesn't need to direct me to it; I memorized the route a very long time ago.

We're there. According to Sport, Little Joe's ma, Marie, is buried here. When I asked what 'buried' meant, he explained that when humans die, their friends and relatives put them in a big box and bury them in a special place where the relatives can go see it any time. I'm kind of sorry that Little Joe doesn't have a mother. I was taken from mine when I was just a foal, so I know how he feels.

Little Joe kneels by the special place and just looks at the large stone in front of it. I can't read myself, but Little Joe has said the words out loud so often that I know what they say:

In Loving Memory

Marie Cartwright

I watch Little Joe and the depression that seems to overtake him every time he comes to see Marie. I always feel bad for him, but I give him his space and let him take his time.

"Alright, hands up and don't turn around," a gruff voice says from behind. I see Little Joe stiffen, and he doesn't move. I hope he'll listen to the man. He looks real mean and has a gun, but Little Joe has a mind of his own, so all a horse can do a situation like this is pray.

"Didn't you hear what I said, boy? Hands up!" the man says again. He digs the gun into Little Joe's back. I'm starting to feel mad. What right does this guy have to hold my Little Joe at gunpoint anyway? But I don't interfere because that gun is way to close for comfort right now.

This time, Little Joe stands up slowly with his hands in the air.

The man with the gun feels through all of Little Joe's pockets and finds nothing (what'd he expect?! Little Joe is only fifteen in human years!!) Then the man takes Little Joe's gun from him and comes over to me to search through my saddle bags. I decide to let him so he doesn't hurt Little Joe.

Unfortunately, Little Joe has different ideas. He sneaks over to the guy—whose back is turned to him—to try to attack. I want to tell him to stop, but he wouldn't listen anyway (as if he ever does).

A twig snaps. The man swirls around and catches Little Joe in the act. Before Little Joe can react, the man's on top of him. I can only watch because, if I tried to trample the guy, I might hurt Little Joe, and I'd never forgive myself if that happened. Neither would his pa and brothers.

A short while later, Little Joe is lying motionless on the ground and the man is preparing to ride off. Finally—my chance to teach this guy a lesson! I give him a good, swift kick to his bottom. The man falls over and I'm tempted to trample him, but I need to see to my Little Joe.

I trot over to where Little Joe is lying and nuzzle his cheek. No response.

_You can't be dead! _I think. _What will your pa do? What will your brothers do? What will I do??_

Finally, his hazel-green eyes flutter open and he groans a little. I know he must hurt a lot, considering what that guy did to him, so I lower myself to the ground. It'll be easier for Little Joe to mount this way.

At first, Little Joe can't seem to get up. But he's stubborn, and he finally manages to get himself in the saddle. I rise to my full height, and Little Joe moans again. I slowly turn towards home with Little Joe slumped over my neck.

* * *

As I canter easily into the yard, I see Buck and Sport in the stable, staring at me and Little Joe. I guess Hoss took Chubby out to the north pasture to fix that fence he was mumbling about earlier. But that's not my concern at the moment (it's not even my concern, _period_).

As soon as Ben and Adam hear me, they hurry out of the house and freeze dead in their tracks at the sight of Little Joe. I snort, hoping to get their attention without moving Little Joe too much; he's bad enough as is.

It seems to work. Ben tells Adam to go into town for the doctor while he himself steps forward and gently lifts Little Joe into his arms. I stand out in the yard and watch him carrying my boy inside. I really want to go with him, but that's impossible, for obvious reasons.

About twenty minutes later, Hoss rides into the yard. Chubby looks at me curiously, and I tell him that I'll explain later.

Hoss dismounts and leads both me and his own horse into the stable. He brushes us and feeds us and then goes inside to find out why Little Joe left me out in the yard. I'm just glad I don't have to see the look on his face when he finds out his little brother was beaten up. Those two are very close, and I admit to getting jealous of their closeness sometimes. But Little Joe and I have a very special relationship, too.

"So what happened to Shortshanks?" asks Chubby. He picks up a lot of stuff from Hoss—so much stuff, in fact, it's almost funny.

I explained about the robber out by Marie's place and how Little Joe tried to attack and wound up getting hurt. When I finish my story, Buck shakes his head.

"Ben's right. The kid's way too impulsive," he says.

"Hot-headed," adds Chubby.

"Stubborn," Buck continues.

"Leave him alone!" I insist. "He's a good kid. I admit he is a little impetuous, but that's what makes Little Joe who he is."

"I guess..." Buck reluctantly agrees.

The doctor rides into the yard in his buggy with Adam behind. They both hurried into the house. We watch and wait.

* * *

A little more than a week later, Little Joe is up again. I've missed him and his sugar cubes and his brushings.

"Ya know something, Cooch?" he asks me while giving me another brushing. "I never did thank you for bringing me home. I never woulda been able to get home alone or with any other mount. You're one special horse, Cochise."

He gives me a kiss on the nose, and I lick his cheek, making him laugh.

Boy do I love this kid.

The End

_Cool, right? My uncle liked it, my mom liked it, and my sister liked it. So why shouldn't YOU like it?!_


End file.
